


Victory Celebrations

by celebel



Series: Fic Prompting Game [2]
Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Alcohol, First Kiss, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 18:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14194695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celebel/pseuds/celebel
Summary: Prompt for some Pitch, a first kiss, 4 pints of beer, and a whoopee cushion.





	Victory Celebrations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlbieGeorge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlbieGeorge/gifts).



> Got a little carried away with this one, but I hope you enjoy reading it all the same :)

A hint of movement at the seat beside him drew Mitch's eye. Immediately, AT froze, a whoopee cushion halfway under the throw pillow. They stared at each other for a few moments, none of their other Scorchers teammates taking notice of their silent exchange, all of them too preoccupied on the makeshift dancefloor, before Mitch gave a cheeky smirk and mimed zipping his mouth shut. AT gave him a relieved smile and finished "hiding" the whoopee cushion, making a show of dusting his hands off and strolling away, his hands in his pockets and whistling the tune of Queen's 'We are the champions'. Normally he'd dob the poor boy in to Shaun, knowing how much all the younger squad members secretly feared his quiet brother, but the alcohol somehow convinced him not to. Whatever, if Shaun sat on it, it was his fault for suggesting they all come back to his place after getting kicked out of the bar.

He leaned back into the plush sofa, giving a long and contented sigh, letting the pleasant haze of the beer and the Scorchers' first ever BBL victory settle in. He cast his mind back to the start of the season, starting with Pat moving in with him temporarily for the following months, their first game and loss against the Heat, waiting in the changerooms of the WACA for Pat to finish his interview with Hoggy and JL, their first victory at home against the Renegades on Boxing Day, Pat being given the 'all clear' to play his first game against the Strikers and being so happy about it he'd whooped and jumped into an equally elated Mitch's arms, the both of them not caring of the reactions of the puzzled physio or Vogesey, sneaking out of the hotel in Sydney at eleven at night just because he was hungry and managing to drag his roommate (Pat) along with him which ended up with the both of them telling stories about their junior days over soggy pizza, Pat's stunner of an over in the semi-finals which snapped up three quick wickets, Pat's contagious, dimpled smile when it had been announced that they'd qualified for the finals, Pat's distressed expressions when George Bailey hit him for six which Mitch just wanted to kiss right off his face- wait, what?

It was truly amazing how much your thoughts could drift after a drink... or two... or three. Hell, he'd had four, no point in denying it any longer, especially when his brain was up and about, reminding him of his repressed feelings for his best friend which he'd had since South Africa when they'd first met. 

He didn't have much time to dwell on the memories as suddenly, there was a form about to crash onto the seat right next to him, right on the whoopee cushion. His beer-addled mind decided it would be a good idea at that moment to slide an arm around whoever that person may be and draw them onto him before they could take a seat, to save them from any potential humiliation.

"Um." That voice made Mitch freeze. Slowly, he looked up at who he had just pulled into his lap and was greeted with blue, blue eyes which he knew only belonged to one person in the squad.

"Hey," he said, cracking a nervous smile which Pat mirrored. His cheeks flushed slightly redder but that was probably just from the drinks. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," Pat replied, looking away. He shifted slightly and Mitch bit his lip, willing away any inappropriate thoughts his tipsy mind was conjuring about his teammate, who he was _not_ crushing on, wiggling about dangerously close to his crotch. "How about you-"

He broke off with a squeak as he over-balanced slightly and toppled towards the floor. Luckily, Mitch's cricket-honed reflexes happened to kick in at just the right time, his hand which had been holding his beer swooping in to steady Pat while his other arm tightened further around his waist. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders, clinging on for dear life. He let out a relieved exhale when he didn't hear a body hit the hard wood floor, and opened his eyes he didn't realise he'd shut. His heart skipped a beat when he found himself face-to-face with Pat, their noses mere millimetres from each other.

"Hello again," he said trying to play it cool, despite the rapid thumping in his chest.

"Hi," Pat said, shifting slightly and adjusting his arms into a more comfortable position. He cleared his throat. "Thanks for, uh, saving me, I guess."

"No worries," Mitch laughed nervously, lost in just how pretty Pat's eyes were. "Just me, your average knight in shining armour, saving you from death."

"You? A knight? Please," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Then what am I? Your damsel in distress?"

"Maybe."

"And I suppose you want a kiss for saving me then?" Pat joked, though the words came out slightly hesitantly. He bit his lip in a way which Mitch shouldn't have found sexy.

"That wouldn't be such a bad idea," he said before he could stop himself, those four beers having removed the remnants of his brain-to-mouth filter. His eyes widened in shock as he realised what he'd said and went to apologise before he was interrupted.

"I suppose you do deserve one." His breath stuttered in his chest as one of Pat's hands freed itself from where it had been across his shoulders, fingers tangling into the short hairs at the back of his neck to bring him in closer for a kiss, his eyelids fluttered shut and-

"Hey, guys, what are you-" A loud farting noise shattered the atmosphere of the party as Sam had thrown himself onto the unoccupied seat on the couch. Everyone went silent and all of a sudden, all eyes were on them. 

Mitch froze, his blood seemingly freezing in his veins. Caught under the gazes of everyone in the room, he couldn't move, despite his mind yelling at him to just let go of Pat before anything got more awkward.

The hand moved from where it had been at the back of his neck, Pat's thumb was now stroking the top of his cheek, drawing his attention back to him. His eyes were dark with want, the expression in them telling Mitch that it was going to be now or never, that their feelings had been denied for long enough and they'd both be idiots to let this opportunity slip away.

"Fuck it," he whispered, and leaned in to capture Pat's lips with his own. Above the soaring feeling he felt in his chest and the blood singing in his ears, he barely heard the loud cheers from the rest of his team.


End file.
